The Sound of My Own Wings
by Wai-Jing Waraugh
Summary: Takes place after failure to stop the Iblis. After being attacked in the console room, Abel waits, reflecting on what has been, and what might await him... Integrated prose and original song fic


**_Author's Note: _**_Based on the scene from the manga, in which Abel has failed to stop the Iblis, and when an undead auto-Jaeger attacks him, he decides to let himself die. I came up with the song first, then interspersed it with some prose, describing Abel's final thoughts as he dies._

_If you don't know what happens next, then read the manga :P_

_I added a complete copy of the song to the end of the story. I haven't written many songfics before, so I hope this format is alright!_

_Please enjoy! ~ W.J._

* * *

**The Sound of my Own Wings**

His first instinct was to fight – to let the monster within him claw its way back out of the abyss, as it always did. He felt the familiar thrumming in his veins, even as his life's blood pooled on the floor around him, or else was voraciously drawn from his throat by the lifeless automaton that had him pinned to the ground. He could feel that other self that resided in him struggling to get free, to fill the gaps torn in his flesh with its own substance, even as the gradual dwindling of his heart told him that his mortal body was dying.

_"Krushnik 02, release of restrictions to 40%... appr-"_

Wait. Why bother? Did he really want to wake to that recurring nightmare, to be resurrected in that loathsome form? To reappear in that grotesque shape that horrified his enemies and allies alike, that struck at a well-spring of fear deep within his very own heart?...

_**Gentle hands find no reprieve  
From the sword that cuts within the sheath  
The mask I made from my belief  
Hides the doubts that lie underneath**_

No. He would rather die as his pathetic human self, along with all those poor souls who in less than nine minutes would be consumed by the encroaching fury of the Iblis. It seemed like some sort of divine justice… to let his life be slowly taken from him this way…

_"I'm so… tired…"_

Those few words carried with them several centuries of weariness. Long years of recurring hurt, like wounds that refused to heal, constantly reopening, constantly gnawing at him with a relentless, throbbing ache. Those same terrified glances that stung like arrows… those same limpid stares which seemed to pierce his very soul… those same words flung out like a curse, possessing a sharper edge than any physical weapon could ever have …

_"Monster!"_

He never wanted to hear it again. He would make sure he would never hear it again. And since the claws of the monster clung too strongly to the fabric of his being to ever disengage on its own, he would just have to destroy them both – the self that he had become so frightened of, and the self that had always been tortured by that persistent sense of fear. He would allow them to be destroyed together, here and now…

_**The weight on my back is too much to take  
Dreading the sound my own wings make  
Falling asleep, longing never to wake  
Afraid of the sound my own wings make**_

_"I see... it's... ending..."_

Yes, if he were ever fated to suffer some sort of death, this one seemed as fitting as any other… if he couldn't save anyone, then he would at least head the retreat of the damned, leading the way out of this world, on a voyage of discovery into whatever lay beyond it…

Heaven? Hell? What would it be? What had all those years of ecclesiastical devotion taught him?

_"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, earth to earth. Amen."_

Yes, that was all he would be. Another fistful of dust polluting the earth's soil, along with the decomposed bodies of so many other discarded mortal shells. So many villains and traitors he had seen crumpled into earthly dust, pulverized beneath his own hands. Yet none of those ones he had slain had been anywhere near as monstrous as himself. No one deserved this fate more than he did… so very, very many there were, who didn't deserve to die like this… yet he couldn't prevent it, couldn't do anything except wait for his own death to come for him, keeping a silent vigil for all that had passed before him, and all that was about to cease…

_**Years ago, I made my fate  
To help destroy what I helped create  
A shame that burns in flames of hate  
Your sympathy comes far too late**_

_Lilith… Will I be with you soon?…_

No, he would never see her again. It was more than he could ever hope for. That was more than he deserved; if he could no longer see Lilith in the land of the living, and he himself had contributed to that fact, how could he ever dare hope to be reunited with her in death?

_**My selfishness disguised as pride  
Too tired to run, too brave to hide  
Surrender to what lies inside  
All hope I had has long since di**ed_

He thought he heard a voice, calling out to him. Perhaps it was just the sound of his own pulse dwindling in his emptying veins, echoing dully in his head. His life was ebbing lower and lower, a crimson thread being forcibly pulled from his veins. He saw it in a vision before his eyes… strands of red, flashing scarlet in the harsh glare of the console room… strands of red…hair…

_Lilith…?_

_**Crying inside though my eyes remain dry  
Deceiving myself without meaning to lie  
Smiling 'hello', whilst I'm waving 'goodbye'  
Spreading my wings, though I know I can't fly**_

The voice came again, seeming to summon him onwards, calling to him out of the very depths of death itself. And yet, in which direction did it guide him? It didn't really sound at all mournful; this was no funeral dirge, played to herald his departure from this corporeal existence… it was a voice he thought he recognized, a voice full of childish abruptness, brimming with a reckless vitality he had long ago ceased to feel himself, yet had sometimes had the pleasure of witnessing second-hand… such a daring, determined little voice, a voice that embodied the very essence of life itself…

Perhaps it was the voice of an angel, or a warrior of heaven…

_"Father!"_

_**The weight on my back is too much to take  
Dreading the sound my own wings make  
Falling asleep, longing never to wake  
Afraid of the sound my own wings make**_

BLAM!!!

He felt the auto-Jaeger breathe out its last death-gasp against his bare throat, even as its bloodied corpse was blown off him by the force of the impact. The rapport of the gun filled his senses like a sudden clap of thunder. The shock of it sent a violent jolt right through him; as though in response, his heart gave a dull, obstinate thud, then another, and another. His body unwittingly answered this last-minute offer of redemption, snatched back out of the jaws of the abyss he had willingly cast himself into… he was rising steadily out of it, ascending like a fallen angel, guided by a distant star…

A star that steadily drew closer, came into sharper focus…

Was this vision true? It seemed too much to hope for… even more miraculous than the coming of Lilith would have been… And yet, there was no mistaking it, that pale, radiant face, framed by strands of beautiful red hair… shining white and crimson, like a star…

_"Esther…?"_

* * *

****FIN****

* * *

**Song: The Sound of My Own Wings**

Original song written for this fanfic

**Verse 1**  
Gentle hands find no reprieve  
From the sword that cuts within the sheath  
The mask I made from my belief  
Hides the doubts that lie underneath

**Chorus**  
The weight on my back is too much to take  
Dreading the sound my own wings make  
Falling asleep, longing never to wake  
Afraid of the sound my own wings make

**Verse 2**  
Years ago, I made my fate  
To help destroy what I helped create  
A shame that burns in flames of hate  
Your sympathy comes far too late

The weight on my back is too much to take  
Dreading the sound my own wings make  
Falling asleep, longing never to wake  
Afraid of the sound my own wings make

**Verse 3**  
My selfishness disguised as pride  
Too tired to run, too brave to hide  
Surrender to what lies inside  
All hope I had has long since died

**Bridge**  
Crying inside though my eyes remain dry  
Deceiving myself without meaning to lie  
Smiling 'hello', whilst I'm waving 'goodbye'  
Spreading my wings, though I know I can't fly

The weight on my back is too much to take  
Dreading the sound my own wings make  
Falling asleep, longing never to wake  
Afraid of the sound my own wings make

* * *

_Note: I imagine the tune as being somewhere between Red Wine Bottle by Liam Finn and Holding My Last Breath by Evanescence. Not that that probably helps any._

_Thank you for reading! ~ W.J._


End file.
